


Never Bet The Devil Your Head

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Death, Decapitation, Decapitation Kink, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hybristophilia, M/M, Multi, Murder, Murder Family, Murder Kink, Necrophilia, Older Man/Younger Woman, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Skull Fucking, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 22:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13690689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Two drabbles for Valentine's Day and Ramsay Bolton Asstravaganza all connected by Robb Stark's decapitated head as Saint Valentine was decapitated.





	Never Bet The Devil Your Head

**Author's Note:**

> I tried something different for me on the Roose/Walda dynamic. She hasn't really grown on him, even as something to be possessed (as opposed to a person) quite yet here.

The Freys are done with Robb Stark's body, but Roose's time has just begun.  _A sword needs a sheath, and a wedding needs a bedding._  As Roose comes to his young new wife, blood drips from the severed head he brings with him.

Robb's jaw is open and stiff, but his auburn curls are still clean and soft. Walda toys with her skirts in her grandfather's dungeon.  _I wanted to try something, darling. Seeing you in your armor. You looked so handsome._ Walda has given him her maiden's blood already, so this time Roose has provided the blood.

Walda's watery eyes widen as she looks to the head then back to her husband.

"I've never seen a man die before. You made it look so easy," she whispers.

Roose suspects she's as wet as she is afraid. The first night he had her was a swift affair with lots of screaming.

As usual, he's right.

Roose enters her as she stands facing the wall, supporting Walda with one arm while holding Robb's head to a height they both can see. It probably is not truly comfortable for either of them, but that is the point. A girl wants to play at her new husband's mysterious dark side, pretending he has a softness only for her. Roose has neither confirmed nor denied her misconception of his nature. Like all the wives he has known she will break. Her naïveté is a diversion at least.

Robb Stark he would have claimed on his knees, or on all fours. He hasn't tried a head since he was boy, curious and impractical in his desires. His seed is more effectively spent inside his wife than across Robb Stark's pretty dead lips. Then of course it may be worth seeing just how far Walda wants their game to go.

 

***

Reek watches in silence as Ramsay inexpertly thrusts into the lubricated right eye socket of a skull. If half of what he says is true they will both live to regret this.  _One of my father's trophies, Reek. Doesn't it look familiar?_   Roose's punishment will strike them both down.

Ramsay's cock is thick with blood, his lordly clothes unceremoniously cast on the floor. Reek tries counting his remaining fingers for comfort.  _One, two, three, four, five six, seven. The Stranger sees men off to heaven_. Ramsay will punish him now though if he does not comply, so he crawls behind his master and kneels.

Ramsay's muscular ass clenches as Reek cups and spreads him.

"Don't act as if you've never done it. I know you live for this," he hisses.

Reek knows what to expect now. He's learned where and how Ramsay likes his tongue best.

Once again he takes to pleasure his lord.

Ramsay pounds happily at the skull, Reek's tongue lapping against his our sphincter while squeezing the tense muscle of his inner thighs. Even if does well in this there is no winning. That is the nature of Ramsay's games. There are too many rules to follow, and not enough extremities for him to take. Someday Ramsay will kill him. Or at least Reek hopes that.

If this really is Robb Stark, Reek ought not to cry. Reek never new Robb stark, not his warm smile or honest nature. Reek spends too long recalling boys Theon Greyjoy was never friends with. Perhaps he could have called him brother and King, but that time never came.


End file.
